


Shredder Never Gets Cold

by Prophetella



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles Forever (2009)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, High Heels, Mentions of Crossdressing, Pictures, Pink High Heels, Private Selfies, Shredder Took Selfies, Smear Campaign, Ungodly Pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2019-06-12 09:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prophetella/pseuds/Prophetella
Summary: After lunch, most of the turtles go off to do their own thing, most days. Today, Donatello managed to hack into Shredder's personal laptop. There are pictures. I'm sure Shredder has his own reasons for wanting to wear something pretty for a little while-- everything else just appeared the moment my friend said, "I told you what I found to use it for a fic -- like What If Shredder Crossdresses?"--- I told her to stop talking-- the plunnies had already hit rabid. -.-





	Shredder Never Gets Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This has crack in the warnings-- when your brain breaks- Not. My. Fault.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After lunch, most of the turtles went off to do their own thing, most days. Raphael and Leonardo usually trained, one at katas and the other slowly killing a punching bag. Mikey ate the most potato chips at this time, usually with a fresh comic book in hand. Don usually busy hacking something or the other, usually nothing memorable as it wasn’t much time before potential patrols.

Then, one time, the quiet afternoon hacking managed to finally get past the last few firewalls that the Foot Clan had up. Donatello couldn’t help the grin of success as he discovered Shredder’s Personal file database. Oroku Saki didn’t have much kept in his private files, and Donatello really didn’t have any reason to read every file before quickly copying before the hack could be traced. Efficiently erasing any potential traces of his presence and connection to the Foot Clan database, Donatello then fetched himself a self-congratulatory mug of fresh coffee and settled into his chair again with an eager gleam in his eye. Who knows what he could find to help them foil the Shredder’s plans in the future?

Donatello quickly skimmed the text files and pdf’s, none proving especially important. Although, one file proved to be a list of expenditures needing approval, which could be analyzed for hints by Leonardo. Most of Shredder’s personal files were images. In fact, one file titled quite cleverly VENGENCE (yes, even capitalized), held just a collection of pictures of the turtles and their various allies taken during various past captures by the Foot Clan. Each had a different expletive titling the image. Donatello decided to share Casey’s four word phrased image with him next time he visited. It’d probably make the human smirk as he’d escaped with barely any assistance at all that time.

So far, the results of his file theft proved to be uneventful and Donatello added a spare sugar packet to his coffee as the latest file (Oroku’s faves) loaded thumbnails. This seemed to be a non-business computer and only because it had been linked to the Foot server at the time had Donatello been able to get these files. Which might mean he’d never find anything of use at all. Sighing in disappointment, Donatello took a deep swig of the toasty roast blend and clicked on a random image in the assorted thumbnails without having his eyes actually focus on any of the dozen or so pictures. 

Then his forceful spit-take extinguished the flame on a Bunsen burner behind him, ruined a few assorted notes left out mid-table and finally began to run over the far edge of the surface beside him and into a toolkit parked next to the corner of the table. Simultaneously, he expelled a loud almost pained squawk and dropped the rest of the mug in shock whereupon it promptly shattered next to a metal panel and made almost as much of a god-awful din as Donatello himself. The assorted noises brought the other turtles, who really weren’t doing anything of insurmountable importance, and had them crowding around the genius in worry as he tried to expel the rest of the mouthful of coffee between strained gasps and coughing.

Raphael was the first to notice the image on Don’s computer screen and with a shaking finger pointed it out to the others, “What the SHELL is that?” Almost unable to believe their hated enemy could do such a thing, he rounded on Donatello and tried to explain away the image in such a way as to be able to dismiss the whole situation. “You been messing with a new graphics program, Donnie?” The incredulous question came out in a desperately hopeful tone of voice.

Still wheezing, hacking and even blotting a few drips out of his nares, Donatello shook his head in a vehement denial and even signed ‘discovery’ from their patrol shorthand to his brothers. His mask tails still hadn’t settled back into place when it clicked for the last two who had managed their own mental firewall to prevent awareness of the image. As they finally allowed it to resolve into the true horror before them, Michelangelo managed to whisper out a choked, “D-duuuuuuuude.” As if all his usual energetic responses had been forgotten in his shock.

In shiny black patent leather 6-inch stiletto heels, Oruku had managed a memorable selfie in front of a full-length mirror. The famed Kuro Kabuto helm upon his head still in place and some of the scars upon the corded body were familiar from battles where the Turtles had applied them by their best efforts. However, the bright pink chastity belt and frilled panties which happened to match the harem mask attached on the helm were irreconcilable additions. Leonardo’s squeaky clean attempt at assimilating the image resulted in a soft query, “Wouldn’t that belt chafe?”

By the time his actual words registered to Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael had already leaned into the screen enough that they both began staring at his profile from only a few inches away as they tried to add more incredulous reaction upon the first level already attained. Despite Michelangelo suddenly shouting out, “Dudes! This IS perfect!” in a strained to squeaky exclamation neither tried to move as their brains shorted out momentarily. The sudden awareness of exactly what he had been examining so closely on the low screen overwhelmed Leonardo and his sudden surge upwards from his crouch nearly clipped both Donatello and Raphael on the nose with the curves of his shell before the mental reboots completed.

Looking around the room almost guiltily, arms coming up in front of his chest and trying to reach out and steady two brothers not performing an impromptu jig of imbalance, Leonardo managed a response, “What? Wha-Mikey… Huh?” All three turned expressions upon the youngest last seen on their faces while rebounding off walls in the midst of a hearty explosion.

Michelangelo threw out his arms to the others and practically went up another octave in his glee, “Don’t you guys see? It’s Great blackmail material?!” Leonardo was already in a full body mime of negation as Michelangelo bounced to the next phase of this epic great idea. “No, no—better! We just need to wait for a huge ambush and distribute a stack of the pics! No way will the Foot be busy with us then! Huh? Huuuh? It’s Great!”

As Leonardo froze into silent immobility, Raphael raised a slow motion objection as he tried to reconnect all remaining brain cells with a pointing finger, “I ain’t carrying a Stack of that picture in my Obi—you got that nutball?”

Michelangelo went into a full pout, “Well, you won’t have to carry them all the time. You can wait until the Next time we go someplace and figure it’s gonna be a trap!” He finished off with a sparkling smile as Leonardo simply covered his face with a hand and headed for the door, turning off the Bunsen burner stinking up the room on the way. The attempt to escape quickly ended as Splinter spoke up from the doorway.

“Michelangelo! Are you pestering your brother for some new interesting toy you want developed, again?” Splinter’s tone made obvious his ire over the repeat issue as Raphael clamped a hand over Mickey’s face while hissing at him to shut up. Donatello quickly closed the file on the screen down to just thumbnails and stood in front of the racy images.

Leonardo smoothly blocked Splinter's path into the room with a ruffling clearing of his throat, “OH!-Ahem. Mikey knocked over a mug, sharp pieces everywhere. I was fetching him a broom.” Giving a quick glance to the three crowding the screen, Leo eagerly slid out the door. Splinter’s sharp eyes traced over the trio.

Raphael spoke up with his hand still clamped over Mike’s face, “Yea, the lil spaz liked Donnie’s new vehicle mods a little too enthusiastically. Not letting him outta clean-up duty, Sensei. Sorry if all the noise interrupted your afternoon meditations.” Splinter’s arched eyebrow roved over the three silently until Leonardo returned and quietly scooted past with a broom.

“Very well, it seems you have his enthusiasm well in hand. I will be putting that lovely roast in the oven. I would highly appreciate if you could keep the mayhem away from the stove until after dinner?” Splinter accepted the robust nods of the four with a flat expression and sage nod before moving on in his tasks.

The four froze while Leo slipped the broom into Mike’s hand as Splinter walked out of view. Donatello broke the silence in a timid voice, “The first person who let’s Master Splinter see that image gets to explain, and yes that means every possible question.” A shiver ran across the four simultaneously. “Yeah, I thought so,” Donatello’s smug tone garnered glares from his silent brothers as Raphael released Michelangelo.

Raphael took another glance at the screen and gave an exaggerated shudder, his lip curling in disgust. “I don’t care what the rest of ya are doing but, I’m gonna go to the showers and scrub my brains until they bleed. And No one is to remind me of those photos again!” He turned to leave the Lab and try his best to induce amnesia about this entire incident.

Almost without his intention, Leonardo’s eyes moved to the screen again, “He took some of the pictures on his private balcony. Ugh! Next time I see Shredder’s cape I’m not sure I’ll be able to focus!” Donatello nodded silently to Leonardo with his mouth dropped open in shallow breathed horror, before sitting heavily in his computer chair.

Michelangelo returned his attention to the screen, leaning in with rapt attention for once in his life. “Sheesh, you’d think he’d feel cold out there. Or maybe the big bad Shredder is too hard-core to get cold, you think? Even in a sequin bikini, just, I mean-”

“Aaack! Mikey just. Shut Up!” Raphael put his hands over his ears, tucked his shoulders down and barreled through the door, “I’m not listening to this anymore!” He could clearly be heard humming to himself as he darted across the open room to the bathroom on the far side to start a vigorous mental hygiene routine.

Leonardo blinked, then scooped up a USB stick drive before placing it in Donatello’s easily near boneless hand, making him blink and look up at Leo. “Just put it on the drive and I’ll keep it in my room away from- from printers unless we want to try Mike’s idea. Uh, later on.” Leonardo drew himself up and took a deep breath, “I’ll be meditating for a while now and there will be an optional but extremely vigorous patrol planned tonight. One that avoids as much of Foot territory as possible.” He nodded to himself and adjusted the strap cutting across his shoulder before leaving with all appropriate haste.

Three Months Later

Mikey proved to be absolutely smug as a shocked crowd of foot soldiers ignored orders and let the Turtles slip away after littering a number of ungodly images upon the group titled, 'Shredder never gets cold' memo-style. The Shredder could be heard howling three streets over as they removed a manhole utterly ignored and unmolested. Raphael never admitted to saying, “Totally worth it,” as he fitted the manhole cover back in place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I was positively scandalized by a friend who excused why she told me about the image (involving actually everything below the shoulders for real only had to invent a harem mask). Her guy swore he took pictures in pink high heels and a chastity belt as blackmail material for her. Yeahhh, sure dude.


End file.
